


Two Oranges, Shared

by goldenteaset



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: Alternate Timelines, F/F, Femslash February, Hurt/Comfort, One-Sided Kamijou Kyousuke/Miki Sayaka, Possibly Unrequited Love, Pre-Femslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-26 03:19:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9859799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenteaset/pseuds/goldenteaset
Summary: Shizuki Hitomi nurses a crush, and attempts to nurse Sayaka. Unfortunately, Sayaka's pain is decidedly beyond Hitomi's experience.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure if having Hitomi be a side-character in PMMM is a blessing or a curse, really. On the one hand: she doesn't have to suffer (as much)! On the other hand: she gets to unwittingly instigate Sayaka's dive into despair. So why not go for the middle-of-the-road option?
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Madoka Magica.

Hitomi doesn’t see herself as special. Usually, she doesn’t mind it. When she walks through the school hallways, nobody whispers behind their hands about her. She has no bitter enemies or love rivals, like in the manga she reads weekly.

(She feels Sayaka should get all the attention, which Sayaka _always_ laughs off. She only wants one person’s eyes on her, after all.)

Hitomi does have a boy she likes. It’s purely a coincidence that it’s the same violinist Sayaka’s been dreaming about since Hitomi met her.

Hitomi gets the appeal: Kyousuke’s a skilled musician, focused intensely on his craft. His hands are elegant, steadily holding the bow of his violin as Sayaka watches his every movement. He gets Sayaka’s sense of humor, and obviously cares about her. Yet he doesn’t seem to notice how quiet and bashful he makes Sayaka, how she goes out of her way to make him happy.

Hitomi can’t help but notice these things, the way that a musician notices a change in key or tempo. There’s a lot of things worth noticing about Sayaka.

In the back of her mind, Hitomi knows that she’s not just admiring Sayaka’s long, taut legs as she jogs across the practice field at gym. Or the way she laughs, long and loud and joyful, after scoring another goal in basketball. Or the way she closes her eyes when she listens to music, as if floating in an ocean of melodies.

Most girls, as far as Hitomi’s parents have told her, don’t tell stupid jokes just to make another girl light up the world with her smile.

“You shouldn’t have dropped your bag, though,” Sayaka admonishes, before handing it over one mysterious morning. “Nothing happened between Madoka and me yesterday, really! Just a busy day.”

Hitomi smiles and tries not to notice the slight bags under Sayaka’s eyes.

\---

Hitomi begins to notice more details like that as the days pass, and they aren’t pleasant. Red-rimmed eyes, missing homework, and lackluster smiles—they begin to pile up, like crumpled and half-written love letters. Madoka and Hitomi have to wait for Sayaka to catch up in the morning.

When Sayaka doesn’t come to class one day, the silence as Hitomi and Madoka walk to school is deafening, full of unspoken worries. Madoka looks like she’s about to cry any second, and she leaves school early.

Hitomi’s never felt this powerless before.

\---

After school, Hitomi decides: she’s going to go see Sayaka, and give her some oranges to make her feel better. They’re easy to find at the market, ripe and gleaming in the artificial light. She remembers a nursery rhyme from an English textbook: _One for sorrow, two for joy._ The cashier bags them for her, the better to avoid staining her coat pockets.

Soon she’s on her way, the bag of oranges feeling as light as down in her rising determination. Above her head, tree branches sway and dance in the wind, as if encouraging her.

When she arrives, Sayaka’s father happily lets her inside, calling to Sayaka upstairs: “Your friend Miss Hitomi is here, can she come up?”

There’s a muffled reply that Sayaka’s father takes as a yes.

He smiles at Hitomi with a glimmer of concern in his blue eyes. “Sayaka is lucky to have you as a friend, Miss Hitomi.”

Her heart swells unexpectedly at his words. “I—I’ll do my best!”

She walks up the creaky stairs with her bag of oranges, a strange feeling in her belly. It’s somewhere between concern, happiness and tension, or perhaps all three. With every step, she stops, looks and listens—it feels like someone is watching her very carefully, hidden by shards of shadow. _If this is a joke, Sayaka, it’s very cruel!_

The oranges bump and roll in the crinkling paper; Hitomi hopes they don’t bruise.

When she reaches the top of the stairs, she finds that the door is slightly ajar. She opens it the rest of the way with chilly fingers, squinting at the sudden dimness before her.

“Sayaka?” she whispers, and a lump beneath the blue bedcovers stirs.

“…’Lo, Hitomi,” Sayaka groans.

She sits up in bed with great care and looks utterly disheveled. Her hair is a tangled bird’s nest, and her pajamas look mismatched in soft pink and neon blue.

Even from this distance, even in this dull light, when Hitomi sees Sakaya like this—she feels weightless and on solid ground all at once. This Sayaka is imperfectly perfect.

“Want me to turn on the light?” Hitomi asks, stepping toward what she thinks is a lamp beside Sayaka’s bed.

“ _Don’t_ ,” Sayaka grunts, one arm flailing to block Hitomi’s way. Then her arm flops to the coverlet. “…Sorry. You can come closer. Just—my head hurts, you know?”

“Ah, I understand.” After a moment’s hesitation, Hitomi sits onto the bed, the mattress dipping to accommodate their weight.

Faintly, Hitomi hears something stir in the shadows, sees Sayaka’s posture stiffen and freeze. The world seems to pause for a moment, waiting, waiting.

It doesn’t repeat. Sayaka’s body grows loose-limbed and at ease again.

Hitomi remembers her oranges. She digs through the bag and holds one out to Sayaka, her fingers curled loosely around the warm fruit. She can just make out Sayaka staring at her, as if testing a rickety bridge.

“Um…I brought you some oranges. Would you like one?”

Sayaka’s head sinks; she stares down at the covers for a long moment. Then, as if carrying a heavy weight around her neck, she lifts her head and nods.

Hitomi lightly tosses the orange to Sayaka— _Was she always this fast to catch something?_ She watches Sayaka peel it with unsteady hands. Hitomi takes out her own orange and listens to the sounds of peels tearing and dropping into the bag.  

Sayaka’s hungrier than she looks: as soon as the fruit is free, she tears into it in a most unladylike way. Sayaka visibly starts and tries to apologize with her mouth full.

Hitomi can’t help but giggle. “I can’t really see you, it’s okay. I wish I’d thought to bring more oranges!”

Sayaka’s voice is achingly gentle. “No, stay. These are enough.”

The room feels warm and soft around the edges. Hitomi frees a slice and takes the first bite of her orange; it’s sweeter than any she’s had before.

This scene stirs something in her. As her heart seems to tighten in her chest, Hitomi’s mouth outpaces her head.

“Um, that joke I made,” Hitomi says after swallowing, “about how—how girls can’t love girls? That…that was wrong.”

Sayaka looks at her with strange eyes. “Yeah.”

There’s another awkward silence, like a thickening fog filling the room.

Hitomi’s heart begins to hammer relentlessly. She cringes and waits—for a forced joke at best, or at worst, something cold and cruel to sink into her ribs like a knife.

Then Sayaka leans forward, the sheets whispering as she moves. With a _creak_ of bedsprings, she’s practically in Hitomi’s lap, staring at Hitomi’s face with uncharacteristic concentration.

Hitomi starts as Sayaka’s cool fingers brush her cheek. “Ah—?”

“You had a bit of orange there,” Sayaka says, flicking it into the bag. It was too small for Hitomi to feel or see.

Suddenly, her fingers return to Hitomi’s face, cupping her cheek. It’s very…forward, and Hitomi can only stare like an idiot at Sayaka’s expression, the hint of darkness in her eyes, the slight parting of her lips; they mouth the words _So warm_.

“Um, Sayaka…are you…cold?” It’s a stupid question, but frankly Hitomi’s too confused and hopeful to ask anything else.

Sayaka breaks into a soft chuckle; there’s a little of her usual self there, and Hitomi’s latches onto it eagerly.

“Nah,” she says, and Hitomi almost believes it. “I’m just feeling a little under the weather, you know? I’ll be okay.”

“Of course! Sorry for worrying so much…”

Sayaka’s expression grows soft, almost yearning. “That’s fine,” she says, unexpectedly wrapping her arms around Hitomi.

Once again, Hitomi’s neck prickles, as if they’re being watched. No matter how hard she squints, all she can see are the vague forms of stuffed animals, their glinting bead eyes silently taking in the scene before them.

Sayaka really _is_ cold, even after being under all those blankets. Hitomi hopes that her body heat can help, even only a little.

“If I can help, Sayaka, I will,” she murmurs, certain that she won’t hear.

Sayaka murmurs back “It’s fine. I’m the one who’s supposed to help _you_. If I need anything, I’ll tell you.”

_…Liar._

Hitomi knows a losing battle when she sees one. Instead, she wallows in the growing warmth of Sayaka’s body, and the sweet tang of orange juice that lingers in her mouth.

For now, she’ll keep her wish to herself.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! :D


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